The words on my wrist stopped making sense
I wrote them on with permanent ink
Branded to my skin forever
My soul pretends to understand them
Because at one time, they were fresh
Now scars read like faded tattoos
Like a book full of missing pages
I guess I just never cut deep enough to make a lasting impression.
That chapter of my life does have holes and gaps
It is lost between the angles of verbs
And the misuse of nouns.
My raw red flesh used to tell a story
Now that tale is slowly washing away
But parts of it will remain forever.
Little details
The precise words my father used to describe me
Will someday become a distant memory
But the bigger picture
****** assault that caused cigarette burns and razor blades
To make a home in my skin
Will always read exactly.
While parts of the ink may bleed off the page
My story, my legacy
Will be shown through me.